This past weekend we celebrated my friend’s birthday (pause for a shout out here: what up M! Happy Birthday!) Thanks to her girlfriend's planning skills, (what up K!) we had a perfect meal at a tapas restaurant: 14 guests, 20 tapas, two large paella dishes, and pitchers of sangria, oh and one slice of rich chocolate cake for the birthday girl. The best thing about the meal, besides the company, of course, was the fact that we really shared everything.
Each dish arrived at the table and we all dutifully shoveled a few scoops on our plates and passed it on. Everyone got to try a bit of everything, everyone rolled themselves home after and everyone got their fill of sangria. But more importantly, we not only sat down and enjoyed a meal together, but we shared it.
When we talk about sharing food, often it is a bite off a fellow diner’s plate or offering the unwanted side of fries to a friend. But really sharing is something that is quite unique from that. Sitting down at a table “family style” is something that truly brings people together. There is no food possession—it is all our food, and with the loss of said possession we seem to lose some of that stuffiness, uptightness, or whatever you want to call it. Maybe it is the act of taking food from the same dish, maybe it is the passing of plates, or maybe it just demands more social interaction that triggers something in us to open up a bit more, drop the barriers we put up, and be comfortable with one another.
Think about the times that you ate with someone. Then think about the times that you shared food with someone. Often the times you share is a time with family, old friends, or new budding relationships, but more often than not, it seems to be with people we care about.
Sharing a meal, not only brings people together for a common purpose, but it creates an intimate experience for the diners. Along with the fact that you are sharing a moment, you are also sharing the experience. And with that said, a meal allows us have this intimate experience with not just one person, but with however many people you want. It can create a new bond for some—you didn’t just go out to eat together, you shared a meal together.
So, as we sit down this week for Thanksgiving dinner across America, whether you are with family, friends, or people you are meeting for the first time, take the opportunity to appreciate the experience of that meal. Not only to appreciate the food, but to appreciate the people that you are sharing that meal with.
Happy Eating, Happy Sharing, and Happy Thanksgiving!
24 November 2010
19 November 2010
Wasted: Jonathan Bloom talks food waste.
November 12th at Borders in downtown Washington D.C., I spent my Friday night listening to Jonathan Bloom, author of American Wasteland, discuss the rarely talked about issue of food waste in this country. Not a surprise to anyone really—we live in a society that wastes nearly everything. We have such an abundance of stuff that it loses value and importance. Food falls right into this category; we have an obscene amount of cheap food (Thank you, government subsidies!) at our fingertips at any given moment, between grocery stores, restaurants, convenient stores, and vending machines. Dropping a half eaten bag of chips in the trash doesn’t seem like such a big deal if you can always buy another for less than a dollar in the next twenty minutes if you change your mind.
Bloom explained that when he started to investigate the amount and manner in which food is wasted on a daily basis, he began to write about it in—wait for it—a blog. Upon sharing his ideas with the Executive Director of the New York Times, Jack Rosenthol responded with: “Hm, interesting—why do I care?” Bloom found himself stumped—why shouldn’t you care?!—But realized his challenge: how could he convince people to care.
Bloom took the standard three-fold approach to argue his case: Environmental, Ethical and Economic. His research methods were also three-fold: Traditional Journalism, Immersion Journalism, and Experimental Journalism. Traditional journalism is the typical process of research, gathering statistics, and interviews. Immersion journalism offered a personal stake in the matter as Bloom entered the work force in the food industry, including: the produce department at a supermarket, an organic farm, a fast food restaurant, etc. Finally, experimental journalism brought it home—as he candidly states this means going out to eat at a lot of different places.
With his personal experience on various levels and areas with the industry and communities in the country, Blooms narrative is honest, entertaining, and eye opening. At the book discussion he covered the themes of his new book, shining light on everything from the food thrown out and consumed at all-you-can-eat buffets, the expiration dates on food (p.s. They don’t really matter, it turns out), to a college that invites scroungers in their cafeteria, reducing the waste, and food recovery organizations to redistribute left over food from one location to another (by the way those of you who are worried about diseases and law suites, there was a Federal Good Samaritan Act passed in 1996 that offers legal protection to anyone donating food.)
Much of how we view food and our wasteful routines is deemed acceptable by society. We see the re-use of food as unclean, or of lesser value, whether it is eating leftovers for dinner or a restaurant taking bread from one table for the next. But isn’t it slightly against common sense, Bloom questions. For a country that has a hungry people throughout it, it is disturbing to hear a statistic like; the average family wastes at least 25% of their food.
So why don’t more people care? Well, more people are starting to talk—it does seem a bit hard not to think about it when you throw out half a perfectly good uneaten sandwich and then watch food riots on the television. And now that we know about the problem—the classic follow up—how can we do anything to change it? Of course the half of a sandwich will not help the starving children in Africa, as they always say, but Bloom suggests building a more efficient system for distributing food from the start throughout the country and worldwide will benefit us all and decrease the food waste. We find ourselves back at the supply and demand economics, if we have less food waste, we have less demand to buy more unnecessary food, and with the a decrease in demand, the supply can then decrease in the States, and that food could potentially get redirected. Perhaps becoming a smarter eater and therefore shopper, there are countless things to act upon on a personal level and day-to-day basis, and, hey, actually save the leftovers and eat them the next meal!
Bloom explained that when he started to investigate the amount and manner in which food is wasted on a daily basis, he began to write about it in—wait for it—a blog. Upon sharing his ideas with the Executive Director of the New York Times, Jack Rosenthol responded with: “Hm, interesting—why do I care?” Bloom found himself stumped—why shouldn’t you care?!—But realized his challenge: how could he convince people to care.
Bloom took the standard three-fold approach to argue his case: Environmental, Ethical and Economic. His research methods were also three-fold: Traditional Journalism, Immersion Journalism, and Experimental Journalism. Traditional journalism is the typical process of research, gathering statistics, and interviews. Immersion journalism offered a personal stake in the matter as Bloom entered the work force in the food industry, including: the produce department at a supermarket, an organic farm, a fast food restaurant, etc. Finally, experimental journalism brought it home—as he candidly states this means going out to eat at a lot of different places.
With his personal experience on various levels and areas with the industry and communities in the country, Blooms narrative is honest, entertaining, and eye opening. At the book discussion he covered the themes of his new book, shining light on everything from the food thrown out and consumed at all-you-can-eat buffets, the expiration dates on food (p.s. They don’t really matter, it turns out), to a college that invites scroungers in their cafeteria, reducing the waste, and food recovery organizations to redistribute left over food from one location to another (by the way those of you who are worried about diseases and law suites, there was a Federal Good Samaritan Act passed in 1996 that offers legal protection to anyone donating food.)
Much of how we view food and our wasteful routines is deemed acceptable by society. We see the re-use of food as unclean, or of lesser value, whether it is eating leftovers for dinner or a restaurant taking bread from one table for the next. But isn’t it slightly against common sense, Bloom questions. For a country that has a hungry people throughout it, it is disturbing to hear a statistic like; the average family wastes at least 25% of their food.
So why don’t more people care? Well, more people are starting to talk—it does seem a bit hard not to think about it when you throw out half a perfectly good uneaten sandwich and then watch food riots on the television. And now that we know about the problem—the classic follow up—how can we do anything to change it? Of course the half of a sandwich will not help the starving children in Africa, as they always say, but Bloom suggests building a more efficient system for distributing food from the start throughout the country and worldwide will benefit us all and decrease the food waste. We find ourselves back at the supply and demand economics, if we have less food waste, we have less demand to buy more unnecessary food, and with the a decrease in demand, the supply can then decrease in the States, and that food could potentially get redirected. Perhaps becoming a smarter eater and therefore shopper, there are countless things to act upon on a personal level and day-to-day basis, and, hey, actually save the leftovers and eat them the next meal!
11 November 2010
It's all about the package...
As somewhat of a follow up to last weeks comments on tricking kids to eat their veggies… I started thinking about how the appearance of food influences our taste. Just as in the lunch line, we can be persuaded to choose what we eat by how we view the food. The presentation, whether that is in the packaging or the plate is a huge factor in our decision of what to eat and how we expect it to taste. There is an entire field devoted to just this, and it is becoming better known as we try and influence the choices of others.
I had this realization after bringing the same dish to two different office potlucks. For the first lunch, I brought homemade hummus and pita bread. I had made two different batches of hummus, each in it’s own jar—I should note here they were re-used jars, probably peanut butter or salsa and the pita bread was still in the bag. After the lunch was done, I had a lot of hummus left over because people had not eaten it. Walking into the kitchen, their eyes drifted over the jars and without the obvious recognition of the appetizer, people didn’t go for it.
The second lunch, I brought hummus again this time I had feta cheese, olives, and pita bread to go with it. Along with the accompaniments, the biggest difference of the main event—the hummus, of course—I put it in a Tupperware. Low and behold, the hummus was gone and people told me how much loved it. I was a little confused though, because it was the same dish I had brought a few weeks before, but I didn’t receive the good feedback.
As a side note, I made hummus again for a dinner party this weekend, it was in a nice dish, and it was the first appetizer scrapped clean.
So what is it about the three dishes? The hummus on each occasion was nearly the same and the reactions that I got were so different. I came to the conclusion that it wasn’t about the recipe; rather it was more about the packaging. Serving it from the jars, people were not immediately sure what it was, as it was unlabeled and unfamiliar—it was not an obvious homemade dish so they were not as likely to try it. But in a Tupperware, it was an obvious homemade dish, and in a potluck setting, people were more likely to try it and like it. Placed in a nice dish, it was much more appealing and therefore readily eaten.
So what does this say about our judgments? Do we base it all on the package? Don’t they always say that good things come in small packages, (or perhaps unexpected packaging in this case) if so, why do we reject the package that is a-typical? Is it because it is unfamiliar or that we don’t understand it? And why don’t we care to find out? Why don’t we want to try something if the packaging is unappealing, regardless of the deliciousness that may be inside?
I don’t necessarily have an answer to these questions. In fact, for me, it leads to more questions: if we are so influenced by the manner our food is presented to us, what other packaging are we influenced by that we don’t even realize?
I had this realization after bringing the same dish to two different office potlucks. For the first lunch, I brought homemade hummus and pita bread. I had made two different batches of hummus, each in it’s own jar—I should note here they were re-used jars, probably peanut butter or salsa and the pita bread was still in the bag. After the lunch was done, I had a lot of hummus left over because people had not eaten it. Walking into the kitchen, their eyes drifted over the jars and without the obvious recognition of the appetizer, people didn’t go for it.
The second lunch, I brought hummus again this time I had feta cheese, olives, and pita bread to go with it. Along with the accompaniments, the biggest difference of the main event—the hummus, of course—I put it in a Tupperware. Low and behold, the hummus was gone and people told me how much loved it. I was a little confused though, because it was the same dish I had brought a few weeks before, but I didn’t receive the good feedback.
As a side note, I made hummus again for a dinner party this weekend, it was in a nice dish, and it was the first appetizer scrapped clean.
So what is it about the three dishes? The hummus on each occasion was nearly the same and the reactions that I got were so different. I came to the conclusion that it wasn’t about the recipe; rather it was more about the packaging. Serving it from the jars, people were not immediately sure what it was, as it was unlabeled and unfamiliar—it was not an obvious homemade dish so they were not as likely to try it. But in a Tupperware, it was an obvious homemade dish, and in a potluck setting, people were more likely to try it and like it. Placed in a nice dish, it was much more appealing and therefore readily eaten.
So what does this say about our judgments? Do we base it all on the package? Don’t they always say that good things come in small packages, (or perhaps unexpected packaging in this case) if so, why do we reject the package that is a-typical? Is it because it is unfamiliar or that we don’t understand it? And why don’t we care to find out? Why don’t we want to try something if the packaging is unappealing, regardless of the deliciousness that may be inside?
I don’t necessarily have an answer to these questions. In fact, for me, it leads to more questions: if we are so influenced by the manner our food is presented to us, what other packaging are we influenced by that we don’t even realize?
06 November 2010
Kids and Veggies
I heard a story on NPR the other morning that made me to perk up from my drowsiness. The discussion was about the psychology of food in terms of the vegetable appeal for kids. Everyone knows that “kids don’t like veggies” and the biggest challenge is getting the next generation to eat enough green leafy’s to consume the necessary nutrients. But, how do we do that without them knowing? But, more importantly, why shouldn’t they know?
I started to think about when I was a kid and getting home from school, I would go to the pantry or fridge for my afternoon snack. Hungry and tired, I would reach for whatever was the most convenient. (Hell, I do the same thing now coming home from work…although the afternoon snack moved from 3pm until about 7pm) My point is: if chips and cookies are the most convenient, that’s what I will be snacking on. If on the other hand, there are cut up fruits and veggies sitting on the counter when I walk in the door, I’ll take that. (Lesson learned: cut up the fruits and veggies, kids are much more likely to go for it if it is ready-to-eat) It is more about the presentation, the convenience, and the ease of accessibility that draws people to make the healthy choice.
This is exactly what the story on NPR said: if we get the kids to eat healthy by hiding it, they will never actually learn what is healthy and therefore will not be able to make those decisions for themselves later on in life. Instead, kids need to be presented with the option, but in a way in which they can make the right choice for themselves. The discussion, inevitably, turned to school lunches and the example was given regarding milk. Apparently, most kids don’t really care if their milk is chocolate or white, so by simply putting the white milk in a more accessible position, kids will be more likely to choose that over the chocolate.
Often hiding healthy food in another route many people take—or at least the media wants us to take. I think about those commercials where kids eating cans of ravioli or spaghetti-O’s while their Moms sit and say things like, “wow, and they don’t even know they are eating a full serving of vegetables in that can!”—Yeah, a full serving of vegetables… with a full day’s worth of sodium, and not to mention the artificial flavors, coloring, and preservatives! All that crap for one serving of vegetables. Come on, Mom, a carrot stick can give you that without the rest of it! There is no need to disguise or hide the good food so kids will eat it. We are so convinced that the kids don’t like vegetables; we don’t even give them a chance. And what to we end up teaching our kids? Well, a whole lot of fluff, it seems–but it’s in that peanut butter sandwich, so at least they are getting protein…
For further information: NPR Morning Edition Story
I started to think about when I was a kid and getting home from school, I would go to the pantry or fridge for my afternoon snack. Hungry and tired, I would reach for whatever was the most convenient. (Hell, I do the same thing now coming home from work…although the afternoon snack moved from 3pm until about 7pm) My point is: if chips and cookies are the most convenient, that’s what I will be snacking on. If on the other hand, there are cut up fruits and veggies sitting on the counter when I walk in the door, I’ll take that. (Lesson learned: cut up the fruits and veggies, kids are much more likely to go for it if it is ready-to-eat) It is more about the presentation, the convenience, and the ease of accessibility that draws people to make the healthy choice.
This is exactly what the story on NPR said: if we get the kids to eat healthy by hiding it, they will never actually learn what is healthy and therefore will not be able to make those decisions for themselves later on in life. Instead, kids need to be presented with the option, but in a way in which they can make the right choice for themselves. The discussion, inevitably, turned to school lunches and the example was given regarding milk. Apparently, most kids don’t really care if their milk is chocolate or white, so by simply putting the white milk in a more accessible position, kids will be more likely to choose that over the chocolate.
Often hiding healthy food in another route many people take—or at least the media wants us to take. I think about those commercials where kids eating cans of ravioli or spaghetti-O’s while their Moms sit and say things like, “wow, and they don’t even know they are eating a full serving of vegetables in that can!”—Yeah, a full serving of vegetables… with a full day’s worth of sodium, and not to mention the artificial flavors, coloring, and preservatives! All that crap for one serving of vegetables. Come on, Mom, a carrot stick can give you that without the rest of it! There is no need to disguise or hide the good food so kids will eat it. We are so convinced that the kids don’t like vegetables; we don’t even give them a chance. And what to we end up teaching our kids? Well, a whole lot of fluff, it seems–but it’s in that peanut butter sandwich, so at least they are getting protein…
For further information: NPR Morning Edition Story
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